


"Dean Winchester is Dead"

by Empress (lc_144725)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Radio, Crying, Death, Grief/Mourning, Implied/referenced Destiel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 03:45:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15428334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lc_144725/pseuds/Empress
Summary: A while back I saw a short little text post comparing Castiel's announcement concerning Dean's rise from perdition and his hypothetical announcement concerning Dean's final death. This is my take on the latter.





	"Dean Winchester is Dead"

     Tears flowed freely down Castiel's cheeks though he could barely feel them. The only physical sensation he could register was the blood. Dean's blood. Everywhere... drenching his trench coat and Baby and all over Cas's hands and the body. The broken angel's heart lurched into his too-dry throat.

     His body.

     Dean Winchester, the self-loathing, wild-west-loving, hunter who maybe liked bacon a bit too much and did a cute, funny little thing with his tongue when he smiled real wide and genuine.

     Just a body.

     The same Dean whose laughter set Castiel's heart alit, gave him more reasons everyday not to regret leaving the service of all he'd ever known.

     Just a body.

 

     It couldn't be; it wasn't possible. Cas still had so much to say, to confess. Everything he'd been to afraid to tell would now be lost on anyone, just useless words spoken aloud. Now, everything they could've shared, every memory they never got to make, every spark in Dean's eye when his lips turned up into every bemused grin Castiel hadn't gotten to see yet... gone. All the moments that had yet to come were stripped away from them both in an instant. It couldn't be happening; this couldn't be real.

 

     But there laid Dean Winchester, in his best friend's arms without a pulse or that mischevious smugness shining in candy-apple eyes, growing colder with every torturous minute passing. There he was, with Castiel, once a great seraph possessing the power to level cities, now sobbing over one human he failed to protect whose soul he could no longer see within him.

For the first time in far too long, part of the angel's mind opened and immediately he had to steel himself from being swept up by the chaos of a thousand competing voices. Though initially invisible to them all, he silenced them without so much as a word as they waited to understand what could cause a being such as him so much agony. When Castiel finally brought himself to say it, he thought he felt numb and hollowed but his voice was nearly deafened by the sea of pain he couldn't keep his head above. Nevertheless, his announcement was heard and perfectly understood.

 

     "Dean Winchester is dead."

* * *

     For a moment, all hate or resentment even she felt toward the traitor whose voice permeated her mind was vastly overshadowed by the grief it carried. As strong as she was, the torment forced upon her was mind-numbing, thought-destroying, unimaginable misery and desolation that allowed for nothing to exist but itself until Castiel cut off the connection. Breath barely coming to her, she clutched at her heart with both hands. This she wouldn't wish upon her worse enemy and those words, she knew, would be with her until she was reaped.


End file.
